


Quiescence

by paperfeathers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperfeathers/pseuds/paperfeathers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-S8 AU. In which Sam succeeds in closing the Gates of Hell, and has an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quiescence

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for fluffy fluffy fluff. This is all itallstartedwithdefenestration's fault, so go thank her.

 

Sam wakes to soft grass and warm sunlight. Nothing hurts, and that alone is proof enough that he’s dead. Under his fingers he can feel soft, slightly damp earth, and a fresh breeze caresses his face and body.  

Already the burn of the trials feel like a distant memory. A pang ripples through him at the thought of Dean. But after a few seconds it fades. Castiel’s still there with him, and Sam knows he would make sure Dean wouldn’t be alone. 

He’s floating in a sea of calm, peace the likes of which he never experienced on earth. Closing his eyes, he lets himself sink into the feeling. Allows himself to savor his hard-earned rest. 

He’s so relaxed that he can’t even be bothered to open his eyes, not even when he feels feathers rustling beside him.

For a moment he wonders if it’s Cas, sent up here by Dean to check up on him. But the angel’s silent for long enough that he figures it’s just some random passerby who’d stumbled into his Heaven.

After a while he feels a hand on his cheek. He should jerk away. Get to his feet with fists raised to defend himself. But he’s entirely too calm. Nothing can hurt him now, he knows.

So he keeps his eyes shut, even when he feels the angel kneel beside him.The only sound the sound of his breathing, the hand on his cheek calloused and cool. Comforting. He sighs, leans his face towards the touch.

The owner stiffens with surprise. For a single, almost painful moment Sam thinks it might leave. But as if to soothe the fear away, the angel  strokes his forehead with the fingers of its other hand, smoothing the small furrow between his eyes. Gradually, Sam relaxes again, almost smiling when he feels the angel playing with the strands of his hair.

For a while they stay like that. A few minutes, several hours, months or years. Sam doesn’t know. He wonders if he’ll fade like this. All of his pain evaporating in the warm sun, leaving behind only contentment and the quiet joy of peace. Feathers brush lightly against his limbs, the light tickle making him smile. He can stay like this forever, need be.

He can stay like this forever, but after a small eternity he feels the angel shift beside him. Feels it lean down low, cupping his face in its hands. It presses a kiss on his forehead, leaning down to brush lips against his cheek.

A quiet voice, achingly familiar, whispers “Thank you,” in his ear. And it’s only then that his eyes snap open.

But the angel’s gone. And the only thing left where it was kneeling beside him is dented grass and a single white feather, singed at the edges.


End file.
